The Bunker
by jussjeni06
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are trapped in the Bunkers when a Plague destroys the population. She wants out, he wants to follow the rules. She doesn't want to procreate or be 'married' to save the population, he just wants her. M for possible future chapters. Angst, Post Apocalypse, Romance, Humor.
1. Chapter 1

Hey Everyone! New Story. I've never done a Hunger Games story so… we will see how this goes. Review and let me know what you think! Also I need a beta if anyone is interested! Updates may be sporadic, I have a lot of kids!

Disclaimer: The hunger games series clearly does not belong to me or else I wouldn't be writing boring fanfics!

Everyone talks about the bunkers like they are the only place left. For some, that's true. After the virus started, many people lost their homes. Even more people lost their lives before we found a way to contain it enough to prolong life. Prolonging our lives comes at a cost, though, that most people see as a small price to pay to not let humanity become extinct with the dinosaurs. But most people haven't seen the things I have seen. Most people "grow up" in one of the common bunkers. The common bunkers make sure people have enough food to eat, although, it is the bare minimum to get by. They have mostly fitting clothes, and clothes that can withstand the heat or cold, depending on whether or not your job takes you above ground. Those people are tested to see if they contain the gene that could supposedly save us.

I am not most people.

It is for many reasons that I am not classified in that group. The first being the obvious: I am not part of the common bunker. The common bunker holds the majority of what's left of our world. It's funny, when this started, we were part of a normal society. We had people of every class: the wealthy Wall Street professionals and doctors; the bankers and the like who may not have been wealthy by some people's standards, but they had good things; the teachers who barely had enough to scrape by; and then the poor who never had enough to eat or enough to live on in general. After the virus hit, everyone ended up here in the underground bunkers that were built decades ago in the event of an apocalyptic outbreak. No one ever thought they would actually be needed, but the President at the time thought it was a necessity. I bet he's very proud of himself, wherever he is right now. At any rate, everyone started out in the common bunker no matter what part of society you used to be in. The old society, with all its rules and hierarchy, were officially over.

I am in bunker two, or what everyone refers to as 'B2'. Once more people started finding their way to the bunkers, the common bunker was overrun. There is not supposed to be any favoritism when it comes to the treatment received from which bunker you wind up in, but there is. When the chaos started, we had to elect a leadership team in order to get anything resolved. I can't say I am upset with the leadership team, as there is actually a person from every important area on it; medicine, farming, supplies, food prep, protection etc. Each of those people lead a team that deals with issues and makes sure everything runs smoothly. By the time I got here, about two months after the virus hit, the first bunkers were full, so I was thrown into B2. While I am grateful that they have taken me in, it is obvious they do not take as much care when it comes to us. We generally have enough food for everyone, but as our numbers keep increasing, our food supply does not. We still have a lot of medical problems for people that had problems other than the virus and the leadership team does not seem to see that as a priority when it has finally gotten most of the common bunker healthy-with the exception of the virus of course. There's actually a few people, including myself, who haven't even been tested for the gene they claim will cure us. Not that it bothers me; I don't think there is a cure at all.

Everyone in each bunker has a job, whether it's on the surface or in the bunkers. Once you turn 17, you are assigned a job. If you showed up here and were already over that age, the members of the leadership team took your current skills into consideration before giving you a job. If you worked on any type of education while you were in the bunkers, there was generally some type of training for a specific job involved, so that was taken into consideration as well. I got here six years ago, at the age of 16, and am still doing the same thing I have been doing since day one: book printing. The leadership team seems to think that one day we will need all of these books reprinted for our future, virus free, time. Every day, I get up and write, by hand, different books that I am given. Most of them are history books from the different parts of our land, but there are also the common books; the Bible, dictionaries, encyclopedias, medical journals and even some of the popular stories from centuries ago. It's a very tedious job, but it helps that I have made a few friends down in the book room, where I am currently.

"Hey Kat," Peeta says to me when he walks into the room, ready to start his shift.

"You know I don't like being called Kat!" It's the same conversation we have every time I see him. My name is Katniss, and since he found his way to the bunker two years ago, he has irritated me by shortening my name. I will never tell him, but I've gotten quite used to it. Honestly, I have also gotten quite used to him. Looking at Peeta, you wouldn't think he would be good for anything other than hard labor. He's taller than most of the men down here with sandy brown hair and golden eyes. He's full of muscles but what makes me like him so much is his brain. He's so intelligent that he could easily make people feel intimidated… but he doesn't. His compassion is a part of him that never left him even though he had a rough introduction to the bunkers.

"Sorry, Katniss!" he smiles at me condescendingly. I have a feeling I will never have to tell him I've gotten used to this 'Kat' business.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" I ask, twirling my long brown hair up into a bun. While I am thankful to be in one of the few climate controlled areas of the bunkers, it gets rather hot in the book room when you have waist length hair.

He stares at me for a minute, those golden eyes piercing into my ice blue ones, debating whether or not he wants to mention whatever has him so happy. He does this anytime there is any kind of commotion going on in the bunkers.

"I am in a good mood, Kat, because I just found out that they are soon going to make cure testing mandatory for all of the bunkers. Even ours! Wouldn't it be exciting if one of us had the cure?" he prattles on, but I stop listening. There isn't one single part of me that believes there is a cure. There also isn't one single part of me that thinks following the rules to prolong life or procreate for the sake of humanity is a good idea. Honestly, I feel like it's all bullshit.

The day the virus hit, I will always remember. I am sure that everyone has their own pre-virus story and their own virus story, and I am sure most sound a lot like mine. I was 16 when it hit what used to be the city of Chicago. I lived with my parents. I went to high school. I had friends and a dog. My dad was an engineer and my mother was a college professor. We lived a normal, although very mundane at times, life. Not many people knew about the virus until it was too late. By the time the news started telling people to go in search of the bunkers, over half the population of the United States had been infected. I'm still not clear on the details as to how this particular virus made it to the US, but then again, neither is anyone else.

When it came on the news that we needed to head to our designated bunker, we grabbed our emergency bags with whatever we could pack within ten minutes, and we left. I would love to be able to say that we all made it safely to the bunkers, but that would be a lie. After the six weeks it took us to get to the bunkers, my parents were both very ill. It made sense because they were already over 40. That's when the population found out that if you make it to 40 with the virus, you are an extremely lucky person, although I think the only person who should be considered lucky would be one who never contracted the virus to begin with.

Anyway, my parents died before I had even learned my way around the bunkers. There were many people around who explained how life had been working in the bunkers and who gave me the information they had gathered so far. Not long after I arrived, the leadership team was in place and I was brought down to the book room.

"You aren't listening to me, are you Kat?" Peeta questions, having finally noticed I was not being remotely attentive to his ramblings.

"No. I'm not. And you know why I won't. I don't know how many times we have to go over this," I say quietly while looking around. Although there is no rule against disagreeing with the way the leadership team has set things up, it's usually considered in poor taste to do so in an area so open to eavesdropping.

"Yes I know," he sighs. "You don't believe there is a cure. You think testing people is stupid and you definitely don't want to procreate with anyone, ever. Much less on a time restriction that is forced upon you by the Team."

I look at him for a second. It is times like this, when he gets exasperated with my way of thinking that I can read him the best. It is times like this when I wish I could convince him to run away with me and never look back.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Please review and let me know if this is worth continuing! As always, plot is mine, Hunger Games is not! Still in need of a Beta if there are any volunteers!

"I never said I never wanted to be with anyone and have children. I did, however, say that I don't want to do it when someone tells me to and I want it to be with whomever I choose…" I trail off looking at the wall, wishing we were above ground so I could pretend to stare out a window.

Just like every other time we have this conversation, Peeta looks at me with his bright eyes and then mutters under his breath and changes the topic. Honestly, I'm quite glad he chooses to change the subject. Sometimes I feel like he likes me, like more than a friend, and sometimes I just can't tell. At any rate, we have more pressing matters to deal with, like the fact that we don't know how much longer it will be until people in our bunker won't be able to have anywhere near the proper nutrition that we should have due to lack of food increases. I also have more personal pressing matters to deal with.

While sometimes the monotony of the book room irritates me, other times it proves to be quite helpful. If I had another job, say in the research lab, I would have to absorb the information I am reading and actually focus on the job I am doing. Here, I can run on auto pilot, which gives me the space I need to figure out what I am going to do, and more importantly, how I am going to get out of the bunkers.

I, like most of the people who made it to the bunkers, am very grateful for everything the underground bunkers have given to me. I am grateful for the food, shelter, clothes, and friendship of Peeta. But, in exchange for that, they want me to give them something that I am unable to commit to: life.

Knowing what we have learned about the virus in the last six years, which, veritably, is not much, the Team wants us to procreate. I understand they want to prolong humanity for the sake of the cure, but not only do I not think we are ever going to see a cure, I also don't want to leave a child I have created behind, alone, when I die at 40, if I am lucky. That is one of the things we have discovered about the virus. When it first hit, most people over 40 didn't even make it to the bunkers. Those that did, died shortly after from unforeseen illnesses. Now, there isn't anyone over 40 underground. Once they realized there was no way to save anyone once they got to a certain stage of the virus, they established a plan to help keep our population up long enough for the cure to be discovered.

Most people don't see getting together with someone else for the sake of procreation to be a problem. They don't consider having to settle down, marry, and have kids with someone by the time you are 25 to be a big deal, but I do. Best case scenario: if I get married now to someone I pick, have children, and the children turned 17 ensuring that they were more or less an adult before I die. Worst case scenario: I wait until I am 25, the Team does a data match and I have to shack up with God only knows who, we have trouble conceiving, and I die while my child is still a child, leaving them all alone.

I really hate the thought of that. I realize that even if the virus had not hit, there was a chance that I could leave my children motherless at a young age. But that was just a chance. This is inevitable.

I have seen how it works down here. The daycares are overcrowding with little orphans. They look so sad that it breaks my heart to even walk by the kid's area. So many children under the age of ten, already orphaned. I do not want that for any child of mine, but unless I find a way to leave the bunkers, they will make me.

"Hey Kat," Peeta breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to meet up after we are done here tonight?" He asks me, looking hopeful. I'm not sure why he looks so relieved when I tell him yes because we meet up almost every day after work. Other than working, eating, and for some people, studying, there isn't a whole lot of things that can be done underground.

Time gets away from me due to my overthinking, and the next thing I know, Peeta is looking at me from across the room, signaling to me that it's time to leave.

"So, there is something I wanted to run by you…" he says when we finally make our way to our meeting spot, which is really just an empty room we found when we were walking to our cells one day after work.

"Okay, what's up?"

"Well, okay. You know I turn 25 this year, right?" He asks nervously. I do know he turns 25 this year. I have been worried for the past few months because that means the Team is going to data match him soon.

"Yes…" I trail off not sure where exactly this conversation is heading.

He starts pacing the small area of the room while running his fingers through his hair. It's a habit he has for when he is nervous. Why is he so nervous?

"So you know they are going to match me soon, right?"

"Yes. The rules the Team made say that everyone has to be on their way to making more babies by the end of their 25th year so they match you at the beginning so that you have had a year by then to hopefully knock some woman up." Of course I know these things. I have been here longer than he has, after all.

"What if it wasn't just _some woman_?" he asks looking directly in my eyes. I am not sure I like where he is going with this. What if he already found someone? Wouldn't he have already mentioned her before? We are best friends!

"Did you already have a woman in mind?" Honestly, I'm not sure I even want to know the answer to that. My heart would be absolutely shattered if he found someone. Granted, I wouldn't say anything to him. He wants to live by the rules of the Team. I don't. He doesn't see a problem with having kids for the sake of, hopefully, producing the genes for the cure, and I do.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about…" he is cut off by the sound of the bunker sirens blaring. It must be time for our monthly drill. Every month each bunker does an emergency drill to make sure everyone knows what they need to know in the event that we have to get out of our bunker and head to the common bunker. I am not sure what kind of event they are expecting, but the rules say we have to do it, so everyone goes.

"Can we finish this after the drill?"

"Yeah, sure. Just… I really need to talk to you, okay? As soon as we are done?" I nod, trying to placate him, hoping more than anything that he hasn't already found someone. But, that's the selfish part of me. I would much rather he found someone he genuinely liked than to be stuck with whoever the Team matches him with.

We go about our drills, which is, honestly, just everyone heading down the tunnels that connect the bunkers. The tunnels are small, only big enough to fit two people, side-by-side in a line. It smells like the damp earth that is on the walls and ceiling of it and it is dark. Very dark. After making it to the main bunker, we are expected to assemble into certain groups where the Team makes sure everyone has made it safely. After this happens, the drill is deemed complete, unless a big mess happens or we haven't done it in a timely manner. Apparently this drill was done well because they release us quickly. I follow the slow moving line back to B2, where I wait to spot Peeta coming through the tunnel. Once I see him, we make our way back down to the room we were at. I almost shrug off our meeting, ready to sleep and not really anticipating this conversation, but his anxious expression stops me.

"So, before the drill you were saying…" I trail off, looking at him trying to decipher what is going on in his head.

"Yes. Okay. So, you know I am turning 25 and they are going to match me, unless I match myself. Well, I know how you feel about this whole matching process anyway, but I was thinking I would rather find myself someone than have them stick me with someone ridiculous." He's looking at me expectantly. I just can't figure out what he expects of me. Is he expecting me to be happy about this or is he expecting anger? I just can't tell.

"Okay…"

"Well, what if we matched up together?" I am dumbfounded.

Seeing my shocked face, he starts rambling.

"Look, I know you are only 22, and you don't _have_ to be matched up with anyone for another three years. I also know how you feel about this whole ordeal, and how much you hate the fact that you even have to be in this mess. It sucks, honestly. I am already at the age where I have to abide by the rules so I am kind of stuck, and I know in asking you this, I am asking you to be stuck too, when I am sure you would much rather spend the next few years trying to figure out how to get above ground. But…" he pauses, taking in my still shocked expression. I am sure my face shows my confusion. He wants to be matched with me? I mean, I think I am in love with him and all, but if he doesn't love me I don't want him to be stuck with me when there is a potential for a deep feeling with his match, since they do it based on actual data. I don't even want to be matched. I don't want to be with anyone because I am forced to.

"But," he continues, "You are my best friend. There is no one else I would rather be matched with than you. I don't want them to match me with some vapid girl and have the Team expect me to…ya know… have babies with her. I don't turn 25 for a couple of months, so at least think about it. If you say no, there will be no hard feelings, but I will be forced to be data matched. If it's not you that I am going to get to _choose,_ then it doesn't really matter who they stick me with, alright?" He is still looking at me. It seems like he's holding something back, and I am wondering if it's something he thinks that may change my mind. Whether it would be in his favor or not, he keeps it to himself.

"Okay. Just let me think about it. I understand where you are coming from… I just need some time." That's the only reply I can give him.

Later that night, I am laying in my bed, thinking. After we parted, there were so many thoughts running through my head, and they are still twirling around like a kaleidoscope in my brain. So many pros and cons, and different scenarios just plunging through. What would happen if I say yes and miss my chance to escape because he doesn't want to? What if I say no and our relationship changes, even though he said it wouldn't? What if I say yes, get knocked up, and die and leave the kid alone in the world, which is inevitable under the current circumstances? What if I _choose_ to be with him and he never returns my feelings? I know love is a small thing to be worrying about at a time like this, but if I get to choose him and he never loves me, then I may as well stay alone and give him his chance at what little happiness could be found in this world right now. I am not sure I would be able to take that type of rejection when I would already be rejecting my own opinions on the matter. Also, why am I even worrying about this when survival is a bigger issue to deal with?

When I finally fall into a fitful sleep, the only thought I have left is _If it's not you that I am going to get to choose, then it doesn't really matter who they stick me with._


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who has put me on their alerts! Please review so I know if there are mistakes. Also, please keep in mind that I actually wrote this as a book and then decided to fanfic it as Peeta and Katniss, so if you see a wrong name or a wrong description let me know so I can fix it!

When I make it down to the book room in the morning, I have my mind set on what I need to do. I need more information in order to be able to make my choice. There is that word again: _choice_. It may even be a necessity to tell Peeta how I feel about him. That could turn out a few different ways, but honestly, at this point, it doesn't seem like I would have much to lose. If I don't decide to match with him, I have a feeling our friendship will be ruined anyway. Telling him wouldn't change that. I also need to tell him why I feel so weary about this possible… _choice._ That's what this would all boil down to. I would have a choice with him. I could choose to pick him. While I wouldn't have a choice as far as the fact that I don't even want to do any of this, I could at least choose who I do it with. And it helps me too, that Peeta picking me was _his_ choice.

"Hey Kat," Peeta smiles at me. He's looking at me as if he didn't just ask me to decide both of our fates last night. Maybe he feels like he doesn't have anything left to lose either.

"Hey Peeta. So, I have been thinking about what we talked about last night," I say to him as he sits down at his work station. We are usually both a little early, so we don't have to worry about people interrupting our conversation just yet.

"And what questions did you wish to bestow upon me?" he smiles at me. He knows I would have a ton of questions to ask before I make a decision-rational thinker that I am.

"A lot. Can we maybe meet after work?" He agrees with a nod and goes back to his work station. All day I catch myself looking over at him. Obviously I am not being sneaky, because he seizes my gaze on more than one occasion and offers me a small smirk in return.

Once again, the day slips past me and it is time for us to meet in our meeting room.

Before I start talking, I pace around, taking in the minute details of the room. It's not much to speak of, although, none of the rooms in the bunkers really are. The walls are made of the same cement as the rest of the bunker but I notice a small crack in one of the blocks. I stare at it for a minute before turning back to Peeta who is watching me with an amused smile.

"Kat, please stop stalling. I am not asking you to choose which way to kill us both. You wanted to talk and to ask questions. That's pretty hard to do when you are just pacing and staring at the crack in the wall." He sits on the floor in his uniform, which is the same as the rest of the book room's employees. Actually, every uniform in the bunker is pretty much the same, dark blue shirt, dark blue shorts (unless you are in a cold climate, then its pants), and whatever shoes can be found. Bunker one has the same uniform, only its dark green which I guess helps the Team tell which bunker you are a part of.

"Okay," I sigh, trying to think of where to start. "First question I guess would be, why me?" I stare at him as I wait for him to answer me. When I think about everything, the most obvious place to start would be there.

He looks at me gently for a second, like he cannot quite figure out why I am asking that particular question.

"Why wouldn't I pick you, Kat? I mean not only are you my best friend, but since we are both in this situation, I don't see why I would want to pick anyone else to endure it with."

"But there are so many other people that don't feel the way I do about the cure that you could pick…" I trail off. That doesn't really need another explanation because he already knows my feelings on it.

"Those people aren't you, Kat." He states simply. Okay so this sounds like he actually _wants_ to do this with me. Does that mean he has some type of feelings for me?

"Okay, say I agree to this, being matched with you. We get married, have babies, whatever. What if there is a chance to escape above ground? I wouldn't be able to just leave you but I couldn't just not try." There—one of two of my biggest issues is voiced.

"I don't really know how to answer that," he admits to me. "I guess it would depend on the situation, whether we already had a child, whether it was relatively safe to even try to get above ground. You know I want to abide by the Team's rules, for the most part, if only because they are the ones that gave me the only things I have left."

I stare at him in wonder. Honestly, I had never thought about his reasoning behind wanting to obey the Team. Some people want to, some people don't. I just assumed he was one of the people that did. But, his reasoning, it makes sense. He's grateful to the Team.

I continue staring at him, trying to figure out the best way to voice my last concern. He interrupts my thoughts, "But I also know how you feel about it, Kat. I would always take your feelings into consideration. We may have to compromise, but we will be our own team. We will make our choices together." That sounds nice…

"Peeta, listen. I still don't know what I want to do about this. But, before I make a decision, I need to tell you something, so that you are able to make sure you want this." He looks at me with hopeful eyes. My consideration of this option is apparently more than he had even hoped for.

"I don't really know… what I mean to say is that…" This is so frustrating. I need to just spit it out.

"I think I am in love with you. And I realize that you probably don't feel the same way about me, and that's fine. But, if there will never be anywhere close to that feeling from you, then you should choose someone else that can hopefully give that to you. It's an absolutely ridiculous thing to worry about down here, but if there is even a chance that you may find that with someone else, then I want you to find it…"I trail off. There, I said it. The ball is in his court now, so to speak.

He stares at me, astonished I think. Good or bad, I can't tell.

"Kat, I…" he starts but I interrupt him. I don't want to know what he thinks about all of this until he makes a choice.

"No, Peeta, stop. Go back to your bunk. Think about this. I need to know you really want this before I agree. There's only so many things we have control of in the bunkers, and this is one of them. I couldn't live with myself knowing that you could have had even a small chance of happiness somewhere else. Yes, you are my best friend, but will that be enough? Let's just meet tomorrow." I leave him, stunned, down in our meeting room and head back to my bunk. It doesn't really matter what he says because I think I have already made _my_ choice, assuming he doesn't change his mind.

Surprisingly, once in my bunk, I go straight to sleep. I guess having made my decision helps the stress of the last few days melt away. Now I just have to see what Peeta says about all of this.

The following day, Peeta isn't in the book room when it's time to start. I look around discreetly for him when it's time to break for lunch. Not seeing him, I sit down in our usual area in the mess hall. Thoughts plague my mind, once again, as I look around at all the people milling around gathering what the Team deems as our 'nutritious lunch' which consists of stale bread, a green vegetable, a mystery meat that I haven't yet had the courage to ask what it is, and a bottle of water. In the mess hall, there isn't really a specific method to where you eat, but most people stick with either their families, if they are lucky enough to have one, or to the people they work with. The only people who ever sit with us are Grace and Anniston. Although they work with us in the book room, there is seldom conversation between the four of us. I guess they notice Peeta isn't here as well, because Grace looks at me and inquires why he didn't show up. Rarely is there a reason someone is granted absence from work, and most times it's only for extreme circumstances or data matching paperwork.

"I'm not sure where he is, actually. I talked to him last night, and he didn't mention he wouldn't be here today but…" my voice fades as I spot Peeta coming over to the table, looking nervous, yet excited.

"Hello, Katniss." He says my full name with a grin.

"Hello Peeta?" I question. I don't know what has him so excited but his happiness is infectious and I feel myself smiling as well.

He sits down and hands me an envelope as he looks around to make sure Grace and Anniston are minding their own business. Whatever is in the envelope is from the Team, as it has their official looking parchment inside.

"What's this?" I ask as I start to open it, but he stops me and makes me look at him.

"Just… never mind, just open it." I open the envelope to see a petition for a selective matching. That's what the Team calls it when two people decide to be matched instead of waiting for one person to need a data match. I read the letter and realize that it has both of our names on it.

"This isn't official or anything," he says. "But, it would be if we both sign it. I know we talked last night, and I know you weren't sure about your choice, but I have never been more positive. Kat, I love you. I _want_ to match with you. We can figure out the rest later. If you sign, we don't even have to be matched for a few months, as long as the Team knows we have the intention to, and we do it before I turn 25."

I sit there in shock. Did he just say he loves me? I look questioningly into his eyes, and I can see it. I see fear, excitement, wonder, and… love. His eyes roam my face, searching for something, and I realize I haven't said anything back after his proclamation.

"You love me?" I blurt out. I guess I could have gone with just about anything else, but I am too astonished to form coherent thoughts.

His answering smile is bright, "Yes. I do love you. I have for a while. I just didn't know if you felt that way, or if I should even bring it up. I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't have those type of feelings for me. I'd much rather have your friendship than nothing at all."

Wow. He loves me. In the new world, when our choices are taken away from us due to the virus, it is nice to know that some things can be normal. Some things we can choose to have.

And right then and there, I smile, and sign the selective match form. I know we still have a few months until he has to be matched, but I am suddenly anxious to start our future together, wherever that may take us.


End file.
